"Apologies, Father."
Stephanie shut the master bedroom door and pressed the keypad lock outside, sealing her father inside.
Her eyes were weary, her movements hurried.
There was no time for lengthy explanations.
She turned and strode toward the assault transport parked in the estate's garden.
The coup had unfolded swiftly.
Stephanie had first summoned the Malick family's vassals under the guise of a conservative Hydra gathering. At the same time, she had discreetly reassigned her father's personal guards to the estate's entrance through separate channels.
No one questioned her motives.
Power within the Malick family had long been shifting toward her.
She was already becoming the leading figure of the conservative Hydra faction.
Then, using a Wakandan micro-communicator, she signaled the Sisterhood to neutralize her father and the gathered vassals.
Before them all, she formally declared her leadership within Hydra, securing full control over the faction's resources.
With Gideon Malick's cooperation, the vassals swiftly acknowledged her authority.
Not every Hydra leader had such a competent successor.
Baron Strucker's son, for instance, was an utter disgrace—a pampered fool unworthy of any legacy.
Gideon Malick had long rejected Strucker's marriage proposal for Stephanie.
And now, more than ever, he was certain he had made the right choice.
That worthless brat wasn't even fit to lead common thugs!
Gideon felt a sense of quiet satisfaction.
Far from being angered by his daughter's coup, he was relieved—proud, even.
Since the death of his wife, Stephanie had been his everything.
He had always hoped she would grow strong enough to protect herself, to display the ruthless decisiveness necessary for a Hydra heir.
And she had done just that.
For a man raised within such an ambitious and treacherous organization, this was the best possible outcome.
It was time for him to step down.
Besides, thanks to the longevity treatments his daughter had provided, he could still live for a very long time.
His only concern now was whether she was too absorbed in her mission to think about securing an heir to continue the Malick lineage.
It was a common parental worry.
But Stephanie didn't want to hear it.
She had even turned down his invitation to dinner.
She was too busy.
Too busy to sit down for a proper meal.
For days, she had survived solely on Eternal City's protein bars, just to save time for work.
Her administrative staff did the same.
Fortunately, the bars were nutritious and didn't taste terrible.
More importantly, as the head of Eternal City's administrative office, Stephanie's health was under constant monitoring—preventing her from collapsing under the relentless workload.
Had it not been for this coup, she probably would have remained in her office until she rotted.
The heavy ceremonial gown felt cumbersome.
Stephanie grabbed the hem and tore away the excess fabric, casting the shredded white silk into a nearby rose bush.
With the power struggle resolved, she left a few androids behind to maintain order before boarding the transport and heading for the teleportation point.
She needed to change.
Then, she would visit the State Department to formally request leave for her father.
And after that—
She would resume monitoring Solomon's operations.
Damn Whitehall.
He continued to obstruct the Malick family's efforts to absorb the remnants of Nazi-affiliated Hydra forces.
Meanwhile, the military had established covert ties with Coulson's team.
Though they publicly denounced S.H.I.E.L.D.'s remnants, words were not the same as action.
Coulson's team had already reestablished contact with their surveillance target, Raina.
And now, Stephanie had to deal with Agent Victoria Hand's complaints.
That woman still refused to take decisive action against her former colleagues.
Hand had assisted Coulson in eliminating John Garrett, but during the chaos, Grant Ward had vanished.
Stephanie suspected Coulson's team had secretly detained Ward—likely to prevent Hand from executing him.
After that mission, Coulson's team had relocated yet again.
Until she received authorization to use AI assistance for tracking, Hand had no choice but to continue her own operations.
Her objectives:
Hunt down the remaining Hydra loyalists aligned with Alexander Pierce.
And track a classified O-84 artifact known as The Obelisk.
Solomon hadn't ordered her to seize the artifact.
His interest lay in identifying those seeking the Obelisk—evaluating their potential as a security threat.
A pre-loaded dossier had been set to auto-transmit from Solomon's secure servers.
Now, even Victoria Hand knew the true purpose of the Obelisk.
Stephanie found it darkly amusing.
The so-called "god" worshiped by Hydra was nothing more than a Kree slave soldier.
Its so-called "superior" genes were a result of corrupted Celestial blood.
The Kree had merely used genetic engineering to artificially reactivate those abilities.
Most slave soldiers mutated unpredictably.
Even Hive—Hydra's prized creation—could never escape its slave nature.
Find the hidden Inhumans.
Assess their threat level.
That was Hand's mission now.
She needed to track Coulson's team and capture Whitehall first.
This would both weaken Hydra and fulfill Solomon's orders.
No better mission than one that served two purposes.
Currently, Hand was aboard an aircraft carrier, using it as a command center for multiple elite strike teams.
And beneath the waves, a nuclear submarine lurked—armed and ready for deployment.
Should the target population resist too fiercely, Hand had the clearance to wipe them out.
According to intelligence reports, these individuals had deep ties to a hidden city on the Moon.
The Moon.
Solomon's next target.
He would not tolerate a species of hyper-mutated non-humans looking down upon humanity as livestock.
From what Hand had gathered, Eternal City was already preparing for an invasion.
Three airborne carriers were undergoing extensive modifications—equipped for deep-space operations.
Her own special forces units had been outfitted with experimental plasma weapons, force-field longswords, and power-feedback armor—gear that had previously been deemed unstable.
She could still smell the machine oil on the fresh plating.
With the automation of factories and the absorption of external industries, Eternal City's production capabilities had surged to unprecedented levels.
Every few months, special forces received new weapons and vehicles for field testing.
Kevlar vests and ceramic plating had been phased out—replaced by an advanced black composite armor.
The technology had been acquired from an unknown source by Eternal City's master, then refined for mass production.
It was stab-proof, bullet-resistant, and heat-resistant.
Elite operatives now wore fully enclosed power-feedback armor, wielding the same explosive-bolt rifles used by the Sisterhood.
Regardless of the weapon—
Every piece of equipment bore the mark of the Eternal City.
A proud eagle with outstretched wings.
Silver-plated, gold-plated, or inlaid with brass.
Not mere weapons—
But works of art.
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